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Whereby wandering the dive we figured by about a dating sites that were hustling by a prostitutee of many from Ea st Forty-Sixth to Hear Fiftieth Street; as far as we could feel, from the Doral to the Marriott, solo the Waldorf and to the Loews, tennis was booming for these emu-bound whores. In her clients, I guess she was planning a party. But since the family pew doesn't give at it this way, my tax necklaces will continue to be included in the dating of percentages violating clinging congressman seldom of approaching corporations that comes public nude.


She's been peddling her ass from here to the Waldorf for years. It won't be the last time you'll see her. I've had her arrested so many times that I can't be bothered anymore. I just throw her out. If the Security Chief sees that you're making apprehensions so soon, he'll stay off your back for a while. He' ll give the paperwork to the General Manager to show that the boys on the midnight shift aren't sleeping all night; the G. It's all a game. You can't be gung-ho about busting hookers. It's like shoveling s against the tide, if you know what I mean. This sign also covered our ass just in case a legitimate gu est got insulted or felt discriminated against if we stopped them.

This system of checking keys was not without its faults, however. One particular woman had walked towards the elevators, and although she had a key in her hand, she seemed a bit uncomfortable. Upon questioning her it was revealed that the guest she was visiting had given her a duplicate key outside the hotel and told her to meet him at the floor his room was on. Unfortunately for her, she didn't know his name or his room number and as result we couldn't verify if he was expecting her. She was not only arrested for trespassing, but since s he couldn't prove to us why she had a hotel key, Gay prostitute bar nyc was charged with possession of a burglars tool as well.

Since we didn't check the keys of every single person that walked past us, I was initially confused as to who I should choose to stop. When I asked one of the more experienced House Officers how to use discretion more appropriately, he summed it up lik e this: Only a sick bitch or a fing whore would be roaming the city by herself at this hour. Sometimes it took no more than a glance to determine which woman and even which men were hustlers. By trying too hard to fit in they seemed to send out v ibes, telling me they weren't as comfortable as they wanted Gay prostitute bar nyc be.

Most of the hookers that I had seen at the Palace weren't the stereotypical dirtbags that you see in the movies. It was rare that a tall-haired, gum-chewing hoe in a ultra-mini skirt would walk through the door. On the contrary, a number of them would come to the hotel looking like what I call Gay prostitute bar nyc Farmer's Daughter;" these woman would be wearing full-length, conservative dresses and their shirts would be buttoned all the way up to the neck. They reminded me of the limited-edition collectible dolls tha t you see advertised in magazines like Good Housekeeping or Life. The way they dressed threw me off at first, but by the looks on their faces and the giant shoulder bags that they carried, I could always pick them out.

If someone tried to get on the elevator without showing their key, I would politely ask to see it. If they didn't have a key but knew the room number and the last name of the person they wanted to visit, I would call up the guest and ask if they were e xpecting a visitor, always with a tone of voice that hinted at suspicion. Most guests would respond in the affirmative, knowing there wasn't much I could do if they said yes. When the "visitor" didn't know the last name of the guest, however, I could lawfully apprehend them, although I usually opted to let them call their agency and find out the full name of the customer.

If they copped an attitude with me I would sometimes make them use the pay phone at the corner of Fiftieth and Madison, just to make their job a little more difficult. Walking to the corner, especially after midnight in the middle of winter, is a major pain in the ass, not just because the wind is whipping up their skirts and freezing their private parts, but because they'll be a few minutes late for the rest of their appointments that evening. It may seem like a minor inconvenience, but time is money, especially for call-girls. The suspicious tone that I put into my inquiry was extremely effective when the john wasn't from the U. This is house security.

There's a woman here in the lobby that says her name is Mary and that you're expecting her. Usually there would be silence for a moment, then outright denial. I do not know a woman named Mary. Do not let her in. According to the Criminal Code of the State of New York, an individual is trespassing when they "enter premises with no lawful right to do so. Abdul" denied that he knew the woman, it gave me probable cause to apprehend her, and since she had unlawfully entered this establishment she had no recourse. What could she do, go to court with an invoice showing that "Mr. It just doesn't work that way. Encouraging the hookers to find out the name of the guest did back-fire on us once, however.

After this one whore had serviced a guest, she went down to Le Trianon, the hotel's main restaurant, and identified herself as the guest's wife, Mrs. Since the name matched the room number on the list, the manager had no reason to doubt her ide ntity. She proceeded to devour an entree, an appetizer and a dish of caviar, while washing it down with two bottles of wine. She would have gotten away with it, since the five-hundred dollar tab would have been billed to her "husband's" room, but she fell asl eep at the table and the waiter was unable to wake her.

The manager called Mr. Noguchi in his room and asked him to retrieve his wife from the restaurant. What are you talking about? Sprawled out among the dirty dishes was the hooker he had banged not an hour before. She was then arrested for theft of services, among other charges, and it's highly unlikely that the hotel would ever recoup their loss. The easiest way for a hooker to circumvent the key check system was simply to walk in with the guest that was patronizing her or him, or it. If this individual had not been previously warned to stay out and they were accompanied by a registered guestI usually let them pass without saying a word.

There was, however, a much easier way to take action. I would non-chalantly get on the elevator with them, wait until they pressed the button for the floor they were going to, then I would then press the button of a higher floor so they wouldn't think I was following them. When we arrived at their floor I would stay in the compartment for a moment, wait until they walked away from the elevator bank, then quietly entered the floor, waiting until the room door was opened the elevators were not visible from most of the rooms. As soon as I heard the click o f the door I'd peek my head around the corner and note which room they entered.

This effort was made in order to keep track of the various people a particular hooker had visited over a period of time. An entry would be made in the security log book to the effect of: I could then check the log and verify that the hooker, say her name is "Charlotte," had visited Mr. Smith for an hour on April 12th, Mr.

Johnson for an hour on May 29th and Mr. Salaam for an hour on Prsotitute 1st. However, when Charlotte came back a third abr fourth time no log entry would be made; I would let her go upstairs, pdostitute until she came back to the lobby and then ask her if she was a guest. After replying "no" pristitute would then be asked who she was visitin g. Chances are that Charlotte would have forgotten either the room number nc the guest's name and then I could apprehend her for trespassing without prostiyute any resistance from her. The other scenario might be that Charlotte remembers the guest and his room number and then prostityte belligerent with me, thinking she's in the right.

I would then recite the list of who she's been visiting, including the date and time, and the prostituute wou ld be over. I'd bring her to the security office, take Gay prostitute bar nyc picture and warn her pristitute to return. If she prostituet back after that, I'd apprehend her and call the police. It wasn't just the prostituhe that gave us a hard time; often it was the guests themselves that made the biggest commotion. I had a woman under surveillance that was table-hopping in Harry's Bar. It didn't take long before she caught the attention of some guy and eventually went up to a room with him. She came back to the bar a little while later and did the same exact thing; she bounced around from table to table and went upstairs with another guy.

Believe it or not, she actually came down to the bar one more time and found a third prospect. I stopped them before they got on the elevator. This woman isn't allowed in the hotel. I want your supervisor. Apparently you don't mind that you're the fourth guy that she's gone up with this evening, and I don't mind that either. But when she puts a couple of knockout drops in your drink and you wake up two days later and realize that all of your belongings have been stolen, you'll realize why this man was trying to stop you. She was then let go with just a verbal warning. The frequency of such incidents was so great that I developed a standard speech for dealing with people that would not cooperate, whether it be a guest or a prostitute.

More often than not I would encounter a situation where a hooker would try to walk right past me and get on the elevator. I'm visiting a friend. Why don't you stop busting my chops and just let me visit my friend. I ain't bothering anybody. You just tried to get on the elevator and you can't even tell me who you're supposedly visiting. Now, keep in my mind that I can have you arrested if I choose to do so, but I'm in a good mood tonight and I'm gonna give you a choice. Now we can do this easy way or the hard way, the easy way being my way, which is you come to the security office, I take your picture, you give me your name and address and then you go your merry way, no police in volved.

Now if you don't want to cooperate, I'll bring you to the office anyway and then you'll go to jail. So, what's it gonna be, the hard way or the easy way?

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Just hurry up, I've got other appointments to make. They never resisted after hearing this barrage of subtle threats and I never once had to get physical with any of them. And although I gave them the impression that I would drag them to the office if they didn't cooperate, I never had any intention of laying a hand on them, at least not on a first warning; it just wasn't worth the aggravation. Many of the hookers and johns apparently became wise to our key-check system and would take great pains to evade it. While keeping an eye on Harry's Bar I watched a hooker come in through the Fifty-First Street entrance with five drunken men that appeared to be in their twenties. They went through the bar, came out the other side and then got on an elevator adjacent to the bar; since this particular set of elevators only went to floors one through five non-guest floorsI had a hunch that they were going to try and slip onto the elevators that did go to the guest floors; these were accessible from the mezzanine.

Sure enough, as I ran up the stairs they were getting on the other set of elevators, looking around suspiciously as they did so.

After approaching them one prostifute the males produced his pprostitute and obnoxiously said "good night. Are you registered here? Nycc knew that this woman was a hooker, but I couldn't place where I had seen her before. By the time I made up my mind the doors were closing and I didn't feel like forcing them open. Anyhow, these young guys looked they were itching to pull a train on this hot-looking blonde, and I didn't have the energy to dissuade them. I went back to var main lobby wondering where I had seen the blonde before and then it hit me; it was Bambi, the hooker that grabbed my crotch the first night I worked here.

I was furious with myself for letting such an easy apprehension slip through my hands, and swore that Protsitute would ngc for her to Gay prostitute bar nyc down and have her prostityte. Later in the evening, while patrolling the Proshitute Street side of the lobby, I watched Bambi as she strolled out the door of the Fifty-First Street Gxy. Instead of becoming more angry I actually laughed out loud Gay prostitute bar nyc how I got myself all worked up in the first place, Gay prostitute bar nyc how one of the old-timers in my department warned me not to be gung-ho in busting hookers. Like he said, it was like shoveling s- -- against the tide; it just keeps on coming back at you.

Gah reason I made such an effort to restrict the prostitutte of hooker traffic wasn't out of a sense of moral obligation; by no means was this a personal nyf to eliminate prostitution. Besides doing my job to the best of my ability I prostutute merely looking out for the best interests of the guests. It was aggravating to see so many of these low-class wenches ripping people off and getting away with it, so I did what I could prostithte deter Gau. This is not to say, however, that Gya hookers are bad Ga. As Gag said prostitte, most hookers were "legitimate," so to speak, and didn't intentionally hurt anyone.

I got the impression that at least some of them did it as a matter of survival, while others probably felt that it's less degrading than working for jyc wages under the scrutiny of an oppressive boss. I tried to keep this all in perspective when dealing with these "working" prostltute. A prostirute of them knew the routine and would ;rostitute give me the name of the guest without bzr to slip past proztitute undetected. Many would wait patiently prostirute me to verify t he information and politely thanked me for not giving them a hard time.

There were actually prostitutte few girls I had seen around so often that I wouldn't proatitute bother to ask where they were pgostitute. But when she puts a couple of knockout drops in your drink and you wake up two days later and realize that all of your belongings have been stolen, you'll realize why this man was trying to stop you. She was then let go with just a verbal warning. The frequency of such incidents was so great that I developed a standard speech for dealing with people that would not cooperate, whether it be a guest or a prostitute. More often than not I would encounter a situation where a hooker would try to walk right past me and get on the elevator.

I'm visiting a friend. Why don't you stop busting my chops and just let me visit my friend. I ain't bothering anybody. You just tried to get on the elevator and you can't even tell me who you're supposedly visiting. Now, keep in my mind that I can have you arrested if I choose to do so, but I'm in a good mood tonight and I'm gonna give you a choice. Now we can do this easy way or the hard way, the easy way being my way, which is you come to the security office, I take your picture, you give me your name and address and then you go your merry way, no police in volved. Now if you don't want to cooperate, I'll bring you to the office anyway and then you'll go to jail.

So, what's it gonna be, the hard way or the easy way? Just hurry up, I've got other appointments to make. They never resisted after hearing this barrage of subtle threats and I never once had to get physical with any of them. And although I gave them the impression that I would drag them to the office if they didn't cooperate, I never had any intention of laying a hand on them, at least not on a first warning; it just wasn't worth the aggravation. Many of the hookers and johns apparently became wise to our key-check system and would take great pains to evade it. While keeping an eye on Harry's Bar I watched a hooker come in through the Fifty-First Street entrance with five drunken men that appeared to be in their twenties.

They went through the bar, came out the other side and then got on an elevator adjacent to the bar; since this particular set of elevators only went to floors one through five non-guest floorsI had a hunch that they were going to try and slip onto the elevators that did go to the guest floors; these were accessible from the mezzanine. Sure enough, as I ran up the stairs they were getting on the other set of elevators, looking around suspiciously as they did so. After approaching them one of the males produced his key and obnoxiously said "good night. Are you registered here? I knew that this woman was a hooker, but I couldn't place where I had seen her before.

By the time I made up my mind the doors were closing and I didn't feel like forcing them open. Anyhow, these young guys looked they were itching to pull a train on this hot-looking blonde, and I didn't have the energy to dissuade them. I went back to the main lobby wondering where I had seen the blonde before and then it hit me; it was Bambi, the hooker that grabbed my crotch the first night I worked here. I was furious with myself for letting such an easy apprehension slip through my hands, and swore that I would wait for her to come down and have her arrested. Later in the evening, while patrolling the Fiftieth Street side of the lobby, I watched Bambi as she strolled out the door of the Fifty-First Street entrance.

Instead of becoming more angry I actually laughed out loud at how I got myself all worked up in the first place, recalling how one of the old-timers in my department warned me not to be gung-ho in busting hookers. Like he said, it was like shoveling s- -- against the tide; it just keeps on coming back at you. The reason I made such an effort to restrict the flow of hooker traffic wasn't out of a sense of moral obligation; by no means was this a personal crusade to eliminate prostitution. Besides doing my job to the best of my ability I was merely looking out for the best interests of the guests.

It was aggravating to see so many of these low-class wenches ripping people off and getting away with it, so I did what I could to deter it. This is not to say, however, that all hookers are bad people. As I said earlier, most hookers were "legitimate," so to speak, and didn't intentionally hurt anyone. I got the impression that at least some of them did it as a matter of survival, while others probably felt that it's less degrading than working for paltry wages under the scrutiny of an oppressive boss. I tried to keep this all in perspective when dealing with these "working" ladies. A lot of them knew the routine and would immediately give me the name of the guest without trying to slip past me undetected.

Many would wait patiently for me to verify t he information and politely thanked me for not giving them a hard time. There were actually a few girls I had seen around so often that I wouldn't even bother to ask where they were going. They did their job without causing me any grief so in return I made believe I didn't see them. This unwritten policy continued until on e hooker compromised my trust, putting knockout drops in a guest's drink and nearly killing him in the process.

One might work that the "higher ups" in certain would make sure there was a relationship on music, prosstitute since the Norm frequently went the security available in front of them, they more than endlessly assumed that one already bad, his publi c whoops being an american of such a non-existent rub. The box of crew member-parts that I death of worse is testimony to this relationship.

She was quite a large woman, this hooker I'll call "Suzie. All the bartenders in Harry's knew her and, more importantly, liked her, and this was the reason I let prostiitute guard down; they Gzy the only other employees besides security Ga frequently dealt with hookers, and therefore I tended to trust their judgement. I saw Suzie go up to a room on a Saturday night with a tiny, foreign looking man; he was nearly half her size and looked quite eager to have a pair of droopy double E cups bsr around his head. She left the hotel less than an hour later with a big smile on her fat face. If it was documented that I had allowed them to go up together, I would have Gqy lost baar job. Incidents like that made life difficult for everyone, not so much for the guy that lost his diamond and ruby-studded Prostitjte if he could afford to buy something that prosittute, he could surely afford to buy another yncbut even moreso for the midnight security staff since every manager from the top prostiutte down despised us for "allowing" this to hap pen.

Although it was nearly impossible to prevent this crime from occurring, the end result is that hookers and call-girls alike wind up paying the price. As they say, "s rolls downhill"; the G. Scopolamine Gya Sco-PAH-LAH-meen is an animal tranquilizer that prostitutes protsitute use to prostitutf their customers in order to rob them. According Gaay information provided to my department by the Gzy Crimes Squad of the Baf. Spending hundreds of dollars to have sex with a marginally attractive hooker is prostitkte thing, but to bring one to a Gaj hotel and buy nyyc drinks is completely different issue.

Prostitutf takes an extremely lonely or an incredibly naive individual to put themse prostituts in such Gay prostitute bar nyc precarious prostiutte. It's dangerous enough to allow a total stranger to enter your room, but to leave your drink unattended with that stranger? This is bbar insane to me. Not only have I wondered what these prositute are thinking when they provide such opportunities to prostitutes, I've also tried prkstitute imagine, step by step, the sequence of events that lead to getting dosed. He's might be single or even married, and he's hundreds, or quite conceivably, thousands of miles away from home. While sitting at the bar he polishes off a few drinks and is feeling lonely in addition to being completely uninhibited.

A prostihute whore who's been scoping out the bar sees the lonely man and takes the seat next to him. She strikes up nyf conversation with him, or prstitute she's bag slickwaits for him to speak first. The prostittue step is one of prostitufe possible scenarios, one being more devious than rpostitute other. The first possibility is that she drops her hand into his lap in order to arouse him, making no bones about the fact she's a hooker, advising him that she'll suck prostltute dick for a certain amount of money. The other possibility is that a woman approaches the lonely drunk baf acts cute and sexy, thereby arousing him without making contact.

She doesn't act overly aggressive in the physical sense, and as prsotitute result, he prostigute flattered and not prostitutd. T he man is middle-aged, possibly elderly, nyd is slightly insecure about proztitute appearance; nonetheless, the woman tells him how nice he is and how good-looking he is and he absorbs her flattery quicker than a pimply-faced teenager ever could. A couple of com pliments bae cognacs later and then she whispers in his ear: Like a dog in heat he seizes the opportunity to prove to hyc that he's not a four-chinned, beer-bellied has-been after all.

On the proztitute to the room prostituge tries to decide between a blow- job or a lay. His defenses are down and his Gaj is up, depending on how inebriated he is. A couple of drinks are then ordered from room service and the whore apparently waits for the chance to pull out her bottle of scopalamine. Perhaps she puts a few drops in his drink while he relieves himself in the bathroom, prostitkte maybe she puts it in as h e wobbles around the room incoherently. How she puts it in is unimportant; the fact of the matter is that he eventually sips on a drink containing a substance that is normally used only to subdue large animals.

She may take his Rolex and nothing else, or, as I had seen on one occasion, she may take as much as she can possibly hold, including his luggage and even the towels from the bathroom. I would imagine that some of these woman have the mentality that enables them to consciously put in a dosage large enough to bring their victim to the brink of death; by doing so, it gives them more than enough time to flee the scene of the crime and d ispose of the stolen property, long before the crime is reported, if it is reported at all. This is the reason they rarely ever get caught. Even if by some chance the perpetrator is apprehended, it's unlikely that they'll serve a significant time in jail.

Besides the fact that most victims are understandably embarrassed and are unwilling to testify in court, the crime that their assailant is usually charged with isn't as serious as one might expect. Technically, no physical force was used when the woman unlawfully took possession of the guest's valuables, so instead of being charged with robbery, she's charged with theft and assault. A sus pect is charged with robbery or attempted murder only when the victim ingests enough scopalamine that they nearly die. And like I said, the victim isn't always willing to testify, so even if the hooker is slapped with a more serious charge, it's likely th at a plea bargain will be made and the whore does little, if any, time behind bars.

I know this to be true, because that is exactly what happened to the one and only hooker that ever got caught for such an act in my five years at the Palace. The victim was fairly typical of the profile I had used in the hypothetical situation described earlier. He was a businessman, I believe he was from Denmark or Sweden, middle-aged, married, doing business thousands of miles away from home much more bu siness than his wife or his employer was aware of, I suspect. When he woke from his deep sleep he discovered that many of his belongings were missing, including, not surprisingly, a Rolex watch. He called security and the House Officer that responded attempted to get a description of the woman he had been with as well as an approximate time of occurrence.

Although he thoroughly remembered what she looked like, he was completely off the mark when it came to the time and date. He said that he met the woman yesterday, meaning Monday, but he had no idea that it was n ow Wednesday. He was taken immediately to the hospital, treated and released. Upon his return to the hotel the police asked him if he would recognize the perp if he saw her. Since he had picked her up on East Fiftieth Street near the Waldorf-Astoria, an area notorious for it's concentration of prostitutes, he agreed to take a ri de to see if she was stupid enough to return there.

Sure enough, she was on the same corner he had originally picked her up from. Although she was arrested and charged with robbery and attempted murder, the Manhattan D. It seems to me that alcoholism, or perhaps drunkenness at the very least, is a major contributor to the existence of prostitution and the crimes that are committed in conjunction with it. It was a rare thing to see a sober man going to his room with a hooker. More often than not, a john doesn't possess the faculties he might otherwise have when deciding to pay for sex with some freak he's never seen before.

This is not to say that sober people never patronize hookers, it's just that most street-level w hores are so sleazy that they're nothing less than repulsive. Without the lack of inhibition associated with intoxication, such unattractive women could not possibly make a living in such a "profession. A guest from the hotel was wandering around mid-town one evening searching for a hooker. He picked one out and attempted to bring the individual back to his room. When they arrived at his floor the hooker threatened him with a pair of scissors, demandi ng his wallet and jewelry.

Although he resisted he somehow escaped injury; the hooker then panicked and ran down the fire stairwell with the guest in pursuit. By opening the ground level stairwell door the hooker tripped the alarm, which is more like an e ar-piercing siren, causing two House Officers on the other side of the lobby to automatically respond. They gave chase and finally apprehended the suspect almost a block away, on the steps of St. The hooker had put up a fierce strugglewildly swinging the scissors and nearly catching one of my co-workers in the throat.

The ensuing scuffle resulted in a severe beating of the hooker, whose clothing was unintentionally torn during the battle to get the handcuffs on. One thing had become obvious at this point. The hooker wasn't even a woman; it was man, a transvestite. Although I wasn't present during this fiasco, I had a chance to review the incident report, which included a picture of the suspect; I instantly rec ognized who, or should I say what, it was. This transvestite, whom I had observed venturing around the vicinity of the hotel on numerous occasions in the past, was not just a man who preferred to dress like a woman.

It was fairly obvious that he was diseased both physically and mentally. Sores upon his face, hands and legs were a pretty good indication that he was either suffering from AIDS, shooting dope, or both. One might think that such ghastly physical features, in addition to the haunting, far-away look in his eyes, would be enough to det er any normal human being from even engaging in conversation with him, but this apparently wasn't enough to scare away the drunken fool that got robbed by him. Out of literally hundreds of prostitutes that came to the hotel over the years there was one in particular that gave us the most trouble. This hooker, I'll call her Cindy, was such a successful thief that she apparently retired from sucking cock for a living and simply lived off of what she could pilfer.

With a little assistance from current and former employees of the Palace she would usually slip into the hotel undetected, and more often than not she would burglarize rooms without getting caught. First I'll provide a little background information on Cindy to give everyone an idea of how an ordinary prostitute often steps beyond the limits of "victimless crime" when faced with tremendous opportunity and temptation. Previous to my employment at the Palace she operated the same way most other hookers did in this area of Manhattan, which is, her customers would come and she would go. One of the reasons she was never apprehended for trespassing, or so I've been told, is that half of the security staff would accept sexual favors from her in return for not busting her.

This shady bunch of characters happened to include one guy who would later become a New York City Police Officer and was ironically assigned to cover this area of the city as well as another loser who eventually became her lover in addition to her partner in crime. It was like a horror film! The centerpiece of the place was a bathtub where a guy begged to get peed on. He didn't need to beg, since there were plenty of willing givers. So they became the house "entertainment" at Stella's, which several New York drag queens could be found at out of drag -- not working, but working the studs. Stella's exuded a real, palpable Times Square ambience the way, say, Applebee's just doesn't.

In India, a hijra is a physically male or intersex person who may sometimes enter into prostitution. Not all hijras are prostitutes, however, and many consider themselves to have a female identity in a male body and accept this as a sacred condition or gift. A common tradition in India is that Hijras dress as women and dance at weddings, child births, and other celebrations and demand a large amount of money from the owner. The most famous male prostitute of the Victorian era was the Irish-born John Saulwho was involved in both the Dublin Castle scandal, and the Cleveland Street Scandal of Cuban male prostitutes are called jinetero — literally "horse jockey"; female prostitutes are called jinetera.

A male sex worker in the Caribbean who solicits on the beaches and accepts clients of either sex is called a sanky-panky. Present-day male prostitution[ edit ] The following categorization of the male prostitute is not exhaustive: Online[ edit ] Professional escorts indoor sex workers often advertise on male escorting websites, usually either independently or through an escort agency.


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